


Lies, Damned Lies, and Lasagne

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [58]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Jukebox Prompt, M/M, POV Patrick Brewer, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27355579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: David has approached learning to cook with the same gusto and determined perfectionism he used to open Rose Apothecary, and the meals he makes are delicious, but he hasn’t yet attempted lasagne and he usually likes to have Patrick around the first time he tries something.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [58]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569
Comments: 57
Kudos: 201





	Lies, Damned Lies, and Lasagne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samwhambam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwhambam/gifts).



> For the irresistible prompt “Patrick finds out that his mom’s famous lasagne is just a frozen lasagne that she puts extra cheese on.” As always with Jukebox prompts it’s unedited, barely reread, and written on my phone, so apologies for what I’m sure is a multitude of errors.

It’s been a ridiculously stressful day, and it was David’s day off which means Patrick had to deal with it all on his own. So when he gets home to find David in the kitchen, wearing one of Patrick’s sweaters underneath their _peas romaine calm and carrot on_ apron (an engagement gift from — who else? — Ted) and doing the dishes with dinner in the oven... well. It’s only the thought of what David will say if he goes to all that effort of making dinner and then it _burns_ that stops Patrick dropping to his knees right there. 

For approximately the eight millionth time in the last month, he thinks how goddamn lucky he is that David Rose agreed to marry him. 

David listens to his tale of woe with soft eyes, and when he’s finished complaining about his day banishes him to the couch with a beer and tells him to put his feet up and put something on. Most of the shows they’re in the middle of require more concentration that Patrick has right now, so he throws on an old episode of House Hunters and gets so engrossed in the couple’s unrealistic budget that he doesn’t realise David has dished up dinner until a plate is being pressed into his hand. 

“Thanks, babe.”

Beside him, David gives a little huff at the nickname he pretends to hate as he settles into the couch. 

Patrick glances down at his lap, and then tries desperately to hide his start of surprise. David has made _lasagne,_ which is... surprising. David has approached learning to cook with the same gusto and determined perfectionism he used to open Rose Apothecary, and the meals he makes are delicious, but he hasn’t yet attempted lasagne and he usually likes to have Patrick around the first time he tries something. 

Patrick takes a tentative bite, and — oh. Okay. David has _definitely_ had outside help. The noise Patrick makes as he chews and swallows is frankly obscene, and he can see David watching him with a small smirk. 

They both clear their plates in record time, and then Patrick takes David’s out of his hand and stacks them both on the coffee table. Before David can object to the _incorrectness_ of not taking them straight to the sink Patrick leans forward, wraps one hand around his fiancé’s neck, and pulls him into a kiss full of gratitude. 

When they finally break apart, David is grinning widely. “What was that for?”

“You’ve been talking to my mom.”

David’s expression shifts in an instant, but to Patrick’s surprise his eyes are now full of concern. “N— no, I haven’t.” He swallows hard. “Have I missed something? Her birthday? Oh my god, when is Mother’s Day? Does she hate me now?”

Patrick captures two flailing hands in his own and brings them to his lips to kiss the knuckles. “Mother’s Day is in May and her birthday is in November.” David’s whole body relaxes, and Patrick squeezes his hands. “I just meant — the lasagne?”

David blinks. “What about the lasagne?”

“It’s... my mom’s recipe.”

David frowns. “No it’s not.”

“David.” Patrick’s not sure why he’s trying to hide it; he’s _delighted_ that David feels comfortable enough with his mom to ask for her help cooking. “I had that lasagne a thousand times growing up. I’d recognise it anywhere.”

David’s face goes on a journey Patrick can’t decipher before settling somewhere like... pity? That can’t be it. “Honey.” His voice is shockingly gentle. “That lasagne came from the frozen food aisle at Brebner’s.”

That can’t... what? “What?”

David’s lips twist to the side. “I picked it up when I did the groceries this afternoon. I mean, I added more cheese to the top because everything needs more cheese, but otherwise...”

Patrick stares at him a long moment. “Excuse me, David. I need to go and make a phone call.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com/).


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